23...

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go ahead, make your day...

10...


I just finished putting a huge pot of beef stew together, it's simmering on the stove. Should be done around six or so. Going to serve it with some toasted Asiago cheese bagels and a nice red table wine from Argentina, with a Caesar salad on the side.
I spent yesterday and today halfheartedly taking down all the Christmas decorations. I really hate doing that. It takes three or four days to put everything up; garland around all the interior doors, the living room and dining room ceilings and both mantels, the banister at the top of the stairs that lines the upper hallway, that intertwined by vintage bubble lights; the tree takes the better part of a day. We have so many vintage ornaments from the early twentieth century, up through the fifties and each gets placed according to it's size and style; we work from the top, hanging the smallest and work down to the bottom, where the largest are hung. Hand blown glass clusters of grapes, hops, raspberries, pears, pickles and pine cones from Germany, that came from my Mother's side of the family. Delicate glass birds, with feather wings and tails, mercury mirrored globes and frosted bells and balls from England, from my Father's side of the family. Glow in the dark plastic icicles from the forties, and a wonderful set of dark cobalt blue balls with frosted comets, stars, moons and rocket ships from the fifties. Plus all the little things the girls made during their childhood, and special little things from friends and family. Gold and cranberry colored glass bead garlands from somewhere, had them for years, don't know where they came from. Walnut shells, painted silver, red and green, that were made by my Mother's Father in the early twenties. Frosted pine cones I gathered years ago and made by coating the edges of them with glue and adding ground mica. And, to top it off, an angel, made by our youngest daughter, from the pressed cardboard cone shaped spool from a bale of baker's twine, some lace wings, pipe cleaner arms and halo, crowning a head made from a styrofoam ball, with smiling eyes and lips painted on. I have a collection of vintage lights, complete with star shaped reflectors, that can't be left to burn too long, they get too hot, but fill the room with a special light and beauty that brings me back to the wonder that was my Christmas as a child. My parents put their hearts into Christmas, as it were. It was something to behold; every room, including the little bathroom of our cottage style home, was filled with sparkly garland hanging from the ceilings, every inch draped with the old style lead icicles, that hung like a veil and gave the appearance of real ice coating everything. except over the in-floor gas heater, where it wafted and danced and sometimes fell down through the grating, causing much excitement when it started to smolder. I'm sure i suffer from the effect of the fumes of the lead, maybe that's why I'm like i am... Celluloid reindeer stood guard on the end tables, keeping watch over the hand made nut bowls, ceramic holiday candy dishes and the ever present fifties chip and dip set that was placed on the coffee table, next to the Christmas cigarette box, table lighter and holiday ashtrays. Every table had snowflake shaped, hand crocheted doilies. Every armchair and the sofa had holiday themed crocheted covers on the arms and antimacassars on the backs, all lovingly labored over by my Grandmother, who wielded her crochet hooks like a conductor pulling a concerto out of shiny white yarn, delicate as a human hair. Huge, tin Lionel trains from the thirties circled around their little world under the tree; a village of cardboard buildings, painted in colors that would stand out in Art Deco Miami, their roofs and yards frosted with ground mica, that hung from their eaves and dusted the bottle-brush pine trees in their yards; angel hair snow covered that land, piled up between the little houses and to the edges of the railroad tracks, and made the shores of the blue glass mirror pond, upon which skated cast metal couples, the girls in their tufted coats, white skates and hands buried in furry muffs, the men with striped ski caps, flowing out behind them, ending in a white painted metal puff, brown jackets with white fur collars, their hands thrust deep into their pants pockets to fight off the chill, except for those of one couple, who skated as one, her head buried in the shoulder of her man, his arm around waist, skating in step, the stars reflecting in their strange blue ice not white, like those of our mortal world, but blue and green and red and yellow... Their painted faces, framed by bright red cheeks, and those ever present smiles, perhaps wrought by knowing that they, more than anyone else, would forever live in that fantastic winter wonderland, interrupted only by that dark, dusty, cardboard scented sleep, wrapped lovingly in the local newspaper, or left over tissue paper from this years presents, white and soft and flecked in glitter, like that special crystalline snow of the imagination, of treasured lore and of Christmases of old...

Now, everything is packed into boxes and bags and cartons in the dining room, ready to be moved back up into the attic for another year. The tree has been carted out to the brush pile, I'll retrieve the trunk this summer to burn in our fire pit, completing it's cycle, returning to the air and the earth. Like we all will. Would that we could bring such wonder and beauty in our short days...
Well, time to go stir the stew and pour another glass of wine. Be well, my fellow wanderers. Fare thee well.
Gregor


go ahead, make your day...

feh...
that's all I have to say... I'm sick of it all.

Touch me...

Alan Keyes...
is my new hero...

by way of The Real King of France...

Touch me...

well, if this isn't the pot...
calling the kettle black... (edited, don't want to be accused of making racist remarks).
This, from the top fellow of the party that thrives on partisan politics...
this stuff is really starting to make my dick hurt...


wander with me...

Obama's Nazi tactics continue...

Apparently The Messiah's Brown Shirts have cleansed YouTube of the creepy video of SCHOOL KIDS SINGING PRAISES TO OBAMA, that you might have seen here and there on the web...



If you try to watch it, it says it's no longer available. I guess when something makes you look like the start raving mad ego maniac Fuhrer wanna be you really are, you send out your Truth Squads to take care of it, huh?



How long before this video is pulled? How long before there's a total media black out of anything even remotely negative about the new god? How long before they start knocking on doors in the middle of the night? How long before my blog get's shut down because I used the new savior's name and the word "Nazi" in the same sentence?




wander with me...

"The hardest thing to explain...
is the glaringly evident which everybody had decided not to see." -- Ayn Rand


wander with me...

so...
I saw the medicine man on Monday. He poked and probed and listened and said that my lungs are perfectly clear. He gave me a script for a chest x-ray, which I had today, as well as an antibiotic, some sort of cough medicine that is so highly narcotic that a half teaspoon had me looped all Monday night and all day Tuesday. I'll save that for the bitter end, I can't function on stuff like that. He also gave me a script to see a cardiologist and a script for nitroglycerin. If I have another episode where I can't breath, I'm supposed to take one and, if it goes away, consider heading directly to the hospital, don't pass go, don't collect $200.00, yadda, yadda, yadda. I had a full cardio workup a few years ago that lasted three days in the hospital. At that time, my heart was ten years younger than I am. The doctor asked me if I was an athlete in high school or college. Uh... nope. Must have been all the walking, hiking and motorcycle racing I did back in the day. I'm going to have a stress test and I'm sure the results will be the same. I have my cholesterol checked every year, it was perfect last fall. My blood pressure is a constant 120/82, same as it's been all my life. If I was a betting man, I'd say I have some sort of viral or bacterial infection in my system, which would explain a lot of the other symptoms I have on a constant basis. I guess I'll find out soon. So, I live on.
I'm not planning on any big 9/11 postings tomorrow. The more time that passes, the more it effects me. Time is not healing that wound. Please remember those who were taken that day, robbed of life and liberty and happiness by unfathomable evil. Remember their families and friends. Remember those who have given their lives in the war against terror and think about those who still serve. Have faith in our leaders. Have greater faith in yourself.
May the gods bless and watch over President Bush and may they bless our great United States of America. And, you too, my fellow wanderers. Fare thee well...


wander with me...

toad deflating moment...
I was driving to work this morning and needed gas and found some at a little out of the way station here in Joisey for $ 3.75 a gallon, which, until I came to my senses, made me very, very happy. Then reality sank in and I wondered why I was so happy to be paying over a dollar a gallon more than I was a year ago. Just sayin...
Well, I'm going to pour myself a huge Scotch on the rocks, hit shuffle on my i-Tunes and wander over to Ellison's place to post my Friday Random Ten. Why don't you stop by and join in the fun?
Later.


wander with me...

Welcome to Obamastan...
now the cock-suckers at the New York Times are telling McCain what type of response he can offer to an article by the Massa'.
Welcome to the new world, my friends. Google has blocked anti-Obama blogs from their search results, the media in general devotes a highly unequal and unfair amount of print and airtime to Obama, and now this, blatant disregard for free speech, in my humble opinion.


wander with me...

I'm sorry...
for the lack of what might pass as any interesting posts here lately. I am seriously, undeniably and dangerously burned out. I'm sick of everything. I'm facing some decisions in my life that I wasn't anticipating at the age of fifty four, not the least of which are my job, my marriage, my need for some modicum of personal worth... WC Fields once said, "There comes a time in a man's life when he must grab the bull by the tail and face the situation", and, my fellow wanderers, I'm a'fear'd that time might be now. I feel like a soaked sponge in need of a serious wringing out. I'm full. Without delving too deeply into the specific situations, I have to preface all of this by saying that, for those who don't really know me, I'm a pretty simple person (keep the jokes to yourself, please...). I do not want much. Nor do I want for much. I live a comfortable life, although it could be better, at least financially. We get by better than some I know, as far as the daily things in life are concerned. We have a roof over our heads, such as Stately Sad Old Goth Manor is. Our daughters are bright, wonderful beings that live their lives to the fullest. They understand the ways of the world and take things as they come. I don't fear for them in that way. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty comfortable in saying that they are the least of my worries. They are resourceful, independent and, above all, endowed with common sense. They will go far. Much further than I've gone, thank Bast for that. I, on the other hand, seem to be back-sliding into some nether region that not only terrifies me, but baffles me to an extent that causes me questioning everything I do, everything I think, everything I feel. I'm beginning to feel that the simple things that I used to enjoy in this life have passed me by and my soul is sort of whirling in some undefined place that is neither where I want to be, nor where I need to be, and, frankly speaking, I'm scared.

---

Theoden: "Where is the horse and the rider?
Where is the wind that was blowing?
They have past like rain on the mountains,
like wind in the meadow.
The days have come down on the West,
behind the hills into shadow.
How did it come to this?"
JRR Tolkien
The Lord Of The Rings; The Return Of The King

---

You know, I keep waiting and watching and waiting, but it never comes. When is it right to reach out and grab, damning all else and everyone else, for that one moment? Is that what it's all about? Is that all there is? Wanting, not having? Fuck that. When is it ok to do what you need to do and put the needs of others aside? Ever? I posted something a few days ago about knowing how Frodo felt, carrying that damned ring. I wasn't kidding. The weight I carry right now I wouldn't wish on anyone. Only there's no Mordor to travel to, no Black Gates to pass, no Mount Doom to cast this weight into. I sit in the dark sometimes wondering just how I'm going to bear this until the end... I go to bed at night sometimes wishing that I would just slip away in the dark so I won't have to face another day of everyone wanting a piece of me, wanting me to solve every fucking problem in their lives, wanting me to have every answer... I wish, just once, that someone would ask me what they could do for me, what answer could they give me, what weight could they shoulder for a while. I used to be able to shrug all this off, but not any more. And that's whats scaring the shit out of me. I really don't know what to do anymore. No one is ever satisfied, no matter how much they carve out of me each day. No one ever says, "thank you".
You know what it is? I'm too fucking honest. Or stupid. I actually believe that being good and right and just matters for something. What that is, I can't say, because I haven't seen it yet. Will I ever? Fuck knows... I've always tried to live a virtuous life. If I promised something to someone, I kept that promise. If the truth needed to be told, I've told it. If I needed to pay some price to make someone else happy or safe or feel fulfilled, I fucking paid it. Sometimes I paid it ten-fold. Sometimes twenty... I guess I'm wondering when it starts coming back my way. Ever? I'm tired of pretending that everything is OK. It's not. No happy endings. No crowns. Not even a moment of peace. That would be nice. Just one moment of pure peace. Not the peace of compromise, nor rationalization, just plain, old garden variety peace. Feh...
Fuck this. I'm going to go drink myself into a coma. Sorry for bending your ear in this way. Really. It's odd that I can spill my guts to folks that I've never met (aside from a few, wonderful, true beings) and I can't even confront myself. What a sorry thing I am, huh?
Time to wander, my dear friends. I bid thee peace.
Fare thee well...




wander with me...

Happy F***'n Earth Day...
I intend to drink coffee from styrofoam cups all day, let my big old 8 cylinder truck idle as much as possible, use paper plates and paper towels with gay abandon... hell, I might even cut down a few trees when I get home from work.
Actually, I am taking down some trees, some scraggly, ill-formed maples that have sprung up in the front yard right on the road. They are in the way of the thirty evergreens I'm putting in this week. By the time I get done with this project, I'll be certified as an illegal beaner dayworker a highly qualified immigrant landscaper. Maybe I can go hang out with the rest of them every Saturday and Sunday morning, blocking the roads into town and getting free coffee and doughnuts from the Birkenstock wearing, dirty looking old hippie woman that feeds them every day out of the back of her minivan. I guess they're more interesting and fun to feed than squirrels and pigeons... whatever.
gotta get to work.
later.


wander with me...

I support Lionheart..!




British blogger Paul Ray, who blogs under the name "Lionheart" has been arrested in England on charges of "inciting racial hatred" for blogging the truth about the Islamic infestation of Great Britain. How long before the slimy tentacle of the religion of the pedophile worshipers reaches to our shores and anyone who has the audacity to speak the truth, suffers the same persecution? Time to stand up for our freedom of speech and time to stand up for brave bloggers abroad who are now being singled out for speaking the truth.


wander with me...

oh, dear...
maybe some more bad news for the jug-ear, lying mutt Barack HUSSEIN Obama...


a polite tip of the topper to Gateway Pundit...

of course, reality is lost on the great voting unwashed in this country...




Bast help us all...


wander with me...

why there is no choice...
other than complete eradication of this scum from the face of the earth...


wander with me...

Universal Healthcare...

be careful what you wish for... the fantasy world of the Democrats isn't very far removed from the Little Rascals...




wander with me...

ah, the religion of peace...
I don't remember watching any tv shows when I was a little goth that advocated me stabbing the leader of another country to death...
remember, these are the people animals that Obama and his ilk want to make nice with...


wander with me...

the scourage grows...
so, the six century death cult is now the world's leading religion...


wander with me...

yep...
like I said...
the man is an America hating liar, with more hidden agendas than you could imagine...
a tip of the doffer to Fausta.


wander with me...

well, back to business...

i think i've finally become overwhelmed by the constant bombardment of nonsense that is life in our great United States these days. the farcical campaign the low-life Democrats are waging is starting to be like a bad acid trip at the circus... Barack HUSSEIN Obama scares the living crap out of me. there's something very sinister behind those eyes... his followers seem to have fallen under his power, like Trilby under the spell of Svengali. Even George du Mauier's description of Svengali seems to fit -
He "would either fawn or bully, and could be grossly impertinent. He had a kind of cynical humor, which was more offensive than amusing, and always laughed at the wrong thing, at the wrong time, in the wrong place. And his laughter was always derisive and full of malice." spooky... besides, i don't trust the bastard. i think he's a closet muzzie, despite his protestations against that idea whenever it comes up. and, if you read his voting record in Congress, you will find it to be pathetic, most of the time he didn't even bother to vote and when he did, well, let's just say that, in my opinion, what he voted in favor of is not in what i would consider to be the best interest of the American people... face it; he's just an empty suit that's been groomed for this shot. a black (in complexion only) closet muzzie that, if he's ever really elected, is untouchable. if anything ever happened to him while in office, the resulting firestorm would make the Watts riots look like a Cub Scout Jamboree circle jerk... i predict mass resignations of Secret Service agents, which will probably be replaced by some of Farrakhan's thugs... and you can bet your bottom dollar that the two race baiting cocksuckers, Sharpton and Jackson, will come a-runnin', ready to lick the new black (sic) massa's boots...
i'll be right back, i need to puke...
and, even though i despise her with a degree heretofore never levied upon anyone, i would rather have Hitlary as the helm, if it comes down to a Democrat having to win... i think that, or should say hope that, when the inevitable second major terrorist strike occurs, she, more so than Barack, have the balls to do something forceful and decisive in return. of course, all this is moot, because McCain is quietly and by a great margin, going to win the election. i don't agree with some of his policies, but the options are slim, dare i say bleak... i initially thought that four years of Democratic chaos would open some eyes and set up a return to a more conservative White House, but after seeing the fervor induced by Barack HUSSEIN Obama and the storm-trooper like legions behind Hitlary, i'm having to retract that idea in favor of reality. i'm also more than curious about whom McCain will tag for the VP slot. there's been some comment by Rommney that he would accept the task. one could only hope. Fred! would be a nice choice, too. i'd love to see him seated as President of the Senate... there'd be some place-putting done, for sure. i could just see him reaching over and giving Rat Face Pelosi the back of his hand every time she rolled her eyes or feigned not paying attention during a McCain State of the Union address... i'd even like to see Bolton get the nod, although i'm not sure that politically possible, that's something i'll have to look into...

well, anyway, that's a part of my frustrations these days. i won't bore you with any more right now. i'm going to go have a cigarette and look at the stars.
fare thee well, my fellow wanderers, fare thee well...


wander with me...